“The results were not as hypothesised”.
That’s all I can say on the record. Off the record, I can tell you with certainty that the Quantum Consciousness experiment was an abject failure, and there is no doubt that the repercussions of our meddling have not been fully realised yet.
Let me go back to the beginning. My name is Dr. Ash Roberts, and until yesterday, I was part of a team tasked with conducting what we’d hoped would be the groundbreaking Quantum Consciousness Experiment.
The experiment itself was based on a recent flurry of research that had flooded my circle. With advances in neuromapping technology, some groups of researchers had discovered an unmapped brainwave present in certain individuals. Initially, this was put down to nothing more than faulty equipment, however after running multiple tests with multiple machines and volunteers, the results were concrete.
This new brainwave was nothing like anything we’d ever seen before, and to be honest, it was incredibly exciting. Unlike a person’s regular brainwaves, this seemed to exist outside of any biological stimulus, acting independently of its own accord. From what had been gathered, the people carrying this wave seemed unaffected, living a normal life just like everyone else. There was no pattern to it, no reasoning. No one could liken it to anything we’d ever seen before.
Some of my more… fanciful… peers speculated that this was finally proof of latent psychic phenomena. After all, there had long been speculation that humanity had psychic abilities hidden away, locked deep within our brains. Maybe this could have been a sign that these particular individuals harboured these untapped abilities. But myself and a few others believed it could be something else entirely.
In physics, Quantum Entanglement is a theory that suggests two particles that become entangled are connected in some way and that regardless of the distance between them, aspects of one particle depend on the other. They exist in a state of flux until observed where the attributes of one of these particles are then presented.
Now if that is true for particles of matter, then who is to say that it could not also be true of our consciousness? After all, we’re still really no closer to understanding exactly how our consciousness works. We know it can change in line with the brain, but no one truly understands what drives it or where it comes from.
There are several instances throughout history of people seemingly changing their personalities or having knowledge of things they should have had no way of knowing. Visions, psychic premonitions, sleepwalking, dissociative identity disorder. What if these were all symptoms of one consciousness absorbing attributes or memories from another?
Could our consciousness be in a state of flux when we are not actively observing it ourselves, like when we’re asleep for example? Is it possible that we could be sharing our thoughts and personalities with another, only becoming what we see as ourselves when we wake?
And if that is the case, could that connection be opened somehow, allowing both consciousnesses to share information back and forth? Would it be possible to create some kind of bridge? That theory was the question we’d set out to answer with the experiment.
Now I’d like to state before I continue, that this experiment wasn’t publicly funded or on any official records. There was a lot of secrecy surrounding the project and our research, after all, we were at the very forefront of an unexplored field so there was money to be made. Our laboratory was an underground complex, hidden away from prying eyes deep in little used woodlands and I intend for it to stay that way. If there were to be a breach… anyway, it doesn’t bear thinking about.
Myself and a few like-minded colleagues were hired by a private investor who very much believed that proving our theory would be the discovery of the century. Led by Dr Jack Porter, one of the most enthusiastic and knowledgeable scientists I’ve ever come across, we had been hand-picked for this project. And as that was the case we had considerable financial backing to allow us to develop a machine that would target and amplify this specific, abnormal wave in the hopes of strengthening it enough to bridge some kind of connection. It took us several months and several failed attempts to get the machine anywhere near being ready, but finally, through sheer perseverance, we succeeded.
The experiment we devised was separated into three stages. The first involved selecting a small group of volunteers who had been confirmed to possess this unknown brain wave. They would each be taken into a controlled environment where they would undergo various cognitive tasks while their brain activity was monitored using advanced neuroimaging techniques to establish a baseline. They all varied in age, physical attributes and intelligence, but much to our surprise the wave seemed consistent across each of their readings. Where each of their individual patterns differed, the wave remained constant, mirroring itself in each of their scans.
Once we were happy with each of the subjects and their neuromaps, we set about preparing for phase two. Each of the volunteers would be subjected to the machine on a low-intensity setting with their brain patterns being monitored for any changes, any kind of sign that an outside connection was being established.
Stage three, if stage two proved successful, would be to increase the intensity of the machine in an attempt to establish a bridge between the two consciousnesses and, hopefully, facilitate communication.
With everything prepared, our investors gave us the go-ahead to run the experiment. It began just like any other, my colleagues and I bustled around performing our final checks. Our eagerness was palpable in the air as the participants were brought in one by one. We meticulously prepared each of them, leading them into the observation chamber and ensuring their readings still showed the mysterious wave as they had during the screening process.
Once the preparations were completed, my colleagues took their positions, some seated next to the subjects, others observing and ready to take notes. My job was to monitor the status of the subject’s brain waves, so to that end, I stepped out and made my way to the monitoring station. Standing before a series of screens each showing a readout of the subject’s vitals and scans as well as the status of the amplification machine, I couldn’t help the anticipation I felt at what we might find. All I could think about was how, if we succeeded, my name would be enshrined in scientific journals from that moment onwards.
The room was soundproofed and airtight, the air that was pumped in was filtered to ensure that there would be no foreign contaminants that could interfere with the experiment. Only a few microphones and speakers dotted around the room allowed for any kind of external communication once the door was closed. Dr Porter nodded at me through the plate glass wall that separated the testing chamber from my observation area, and I pressed the button that engaged the locking mechanism, sealing it off from the outside world.
And with that, we began.
The first phase of the experiment proceeded smoothly, with the participants responding to the cognitive tests my colleagues provided with expected brain activity patterns. I fidgeted as I watched each of the readouts on my monitors staying firmly in the green, with no abnormalities or fluctuations of any kind. Excitement tingled in my stomach like butterflies as I waited for confirmation to begin phase two.
Relaying the results to Dr Porter, another nod through the glass confirmed that we were ready to proceed. Although he tried to hide it, I could tell from the glint in his eye that he was just as excited as I was. Hovering my hand over the button which would activate the machine, I hesitated, before pushing down hard.
The monitor dedicated to the status of our machine flickered into life, followed by a slight, high-pitched whine as the machine began to activate. Its readouts climbed rapidly and a pang of anxiety filled my chest as I watched them soar, before they came to rest at a calm, constant output.
Nodding back to Dr Porter, he smiled before turning to the rest of my colleagues and announcing that phase two was now underway. With the machine now active, amplifying the subject’s anomalous brainwave to above-normal levels, each of us hoped for some kind of phenomenon, something that would indicate they had made some kind of connection.
The readouts continued to proceed as expected, with the subjects’ brainwaves following the hypothesis that we had plotted. The independent wave seemed to fluctuate, responding to the influence of the machine while leaving their normal brain patterns pretty much as they were.
After a few minutes of ensuring that the machine was not causing any adverse effects, Dr Porter gave the nod to my colleagues to begin. They proceeded to ask a series of questions to the subjects about their overall well-being, how they currently felt and if there was anything that seemed unusual to them.
When questioned, the subjects gave honest answers. They claimed to feel calm, and almost as though their worries were further away or didn’t matter anymore, as though they had become trivial. When asked about any unusual feelings, they all mentioned a strange feeling, like eyes watching them, but otherwise, nothing. We speculated that perhaps this was their minds becoming aware of the other consciousness and trying to process this information.
The questioning continued and, to our amazement, each of them seemed to be able to answer questions that they had no prior knowledge of. They could recall, with striking clarity, events that had occurred in the childhood of my team members as though they were there themselves, although they would have had no way of knowing this information beforehand.
Looking back at the monitors, what I found came as a shock. A part of the brain that was normally dormant seemed to be activating in the subjects the longer they were exposed to this increased stimulation, changing the readouts of the subject’s brain signatures. I chuckled to myself thinking about all of those other researchers. They were right, psychic phenomena. We’d proven it, it had to be.
When pressed, we found that the subjects could also recall events from long before they were born as though they were currently living through them at that moment. One subject claimed to be witnessing the signing of the armistice first-hand, while another gave a strikingly detailed account of the coronation of King Charles II. The excitement in the room reached its peak, however, when one of the subjects claimed to be witnessing humanity colonising another planet, detailing the events that were yet to happen, and seeing them vividly in their mind.
I was overjoyed with what I was seeing. We’d proven without a shadow of a doubt that there was a deeper connection between consciousnesses, that this abnormal brain wave was the link between them. Imagine what we could find, what we could learn, if we could only dig a little deeper.
Spurred on by these stellar results, and after briefly consulting with Dr Porter through the speakers, the decision was made to begin phase three. As we were now venturing deep into uncharted territory and experimenting with the unknown workings of the brain, each of the subjects was restrained, mainly for their own safety. Once each subject had been secured, I fiddled with the controls at my station, pushing the machine further in the hope that this extra boost would facilitate communication between the subjects and whatever was allowing them to see these visions.
Tapping a few keys on the control panel, the monitor showing the readout for the machine reflected my command, the signal steadily increasing. Scanning the subject’s screens again, subtle anomalies began to emerge on my readouts. I thought that perhaps they were just the machine misreading a result, a blip in its monitoring. However, the more I watched, the more my unease grew. The independent wave seemed to grow erratic, fluctuating wildly as the machine attempted to bolster it further. This resulted in spikes in brain activity that were unexpected and could potentially manifest as strange subtle alterations in the subject’s psyche.
I turned to tell Dr Porter what I was seeing, but the sight through the glass stopped me in my tracks. Some of the subjects had become twitchy and agitated, complaining about something watching them, something they couldn’t see. They became seemingly more and more aggressive with my colleagues and their questions, becoming verbally abusive and lashing out with their bound fists. They each complained about the feeling of being watched from before, it had become unbearable to them, as though those eyes were now burning into them.
This change in the subject’s demeanour began casting a shadow of unease over our team. Trying to get Dr Porter’s attention, my stomach dropped slightly as no response came from the testing chamber. No one registered my voice as I tried the microphone again and again. I assumed that after boosting the machine, it was now interfering with the electrical signals in the room, blocking my attempts to communicate through the speakers.
That’s when I began to notice it. Although there was nothing to physically show it, and the thermal readouts on my screens all indicated that the observation chamber was the same temperature it had always been, the room suddenly felt colder, as though an icy chill was emanating from the glass of the testing chamber. Despite the whining of the machine and the humming of our monitoring equipment, an eerie silence filled the air.
Looking back at the subjects, I could see their eyes darting around the room, terrified. Their mouths were moving frantically, as though they were desperately pleading with my colleagues. I watched, dumbfounded at this new development. I wanted to stop the machine, the boosted signal was obviously having a negative effect on the subjects, but Dr Porter watched on from inside the testing chamber and I knew if I stopped the experiment without authorisation then I would likely be fired, or at least removed from the team.
As I was about to reach out and slam my fist against the glass to get the attention of Dr Porter and my other colleagues, chaos erupted. The neuroimaging screens burst into life, the readouts dancing wildly across them as warnings flashed. The participants flailed in their restraints, their faces contorted in terror as they violently tugged against their bindings.
Blood-curdling screams pierced the air, reverberating through the supposedly soundproof glass of the testing chamber as the subjects convulsed. Their eyes rolled wildly in their sockets as their bodies tensed and shook, racking their spines into painful arches as their limbs spasmed wildly.
Crimson tears leaked from their now bloodshot eyes, slowly snaking down their cheeks before being absorbed by the fabric of their clothes. I didn’t think it was possible, but the screams became louder, terrified and primal. I needed to stop this, we were killing them.
Dr Porter’s face turned to me in the glass, horrified. Although I couldn’t hear what he said, his lips moved frantically and I could just about make out the word “power”. Not needing to be told twice, I rushed back to my control panel, desperately attempting to power down the machine to save the test subjects. But as I hammered frantically on the keypad, the buttons and switches had become unresponsive, blinking at me tauntingly.
I turned back to Dr Porter, meeting his horrified gaze, when the room plunged into darkness, leaving only the dull glow of emergency lighting casting haunting shadows on the walls. Even in the darkness, the god-awful screaming continued, bolstered by the fresh screams of surprise from my colleagues.
And then it happened.
From the depths of the chamber, something I can only describe as a palpable malevolence materialized. Appearing as luminescent distorted figures, neither human nor ethereal, they slithered through the air like serpents from the unhinged mouths of the twitching subjects.
Their eyes glowed with an otherworldly light, fixated on the trembling forms of my colleagues. Standing transfixed at the horrors above them, all they could do was stare in terror as each of these unnatural entities swarmed through the air around them, encircling them like a pack of rabid dogs.
One by one, they were thrown across the room and pinned down by the spectral forms, struggling against their inhuman grip. The sickly sweet taste of vomit climbed my throat as I watched on, helpless, as they brought their faces closer and closer to the scientists, using their long, spectral fingers to prize open their protesting jaws.
The creatures proceeded to slither into the gaping void of my colleague’s throats, disappearing from view entirely as they forced their way into their bodies and everything went silent. I looked away, trying to process what I’d just seen. The monitors showing the participant’s vitals were all aggressively flashing, accompanied by a sustained, high-pitched beeping as they tried to signal that their subject was no longer living.
I started at each of them, dumbfounded, trying to fathom what the hell had just happened, when the screams from the testing chamber started up again. They weren’t the same terrified screams as before, these were agonised, desperate and pleading.
Looking back at the glass, my colleagues were all convulsing, their faces etched into masks of terror. My blood turned to ice as I watched the scene unfolding before me. They were… changing. They screamed and flailed around in agony as their flesh twisted and mangled, tearing and rearranging itself into new, grotesque forms.
Bones snapped, pressing sharply against taught skin as they warped and elongated, jagged shards tearing through the flesh and jutting out at unnatural angles. Their limbs twisted and writhed, losing their shape as they were forcibly re-arranged into something that bore no resemblance to any creature I’d ever seen before.
Even though the testing chamber was sealed, the air was thick with the sickening stench of torn flesh and metallic blood as their bodies convulsed in agony. Their skin, once smooth and vibrant, was stretched and split, revealing pulsating tendrils of blackened veins snaking their way across their newly distorted forms.
Black limbs erupted from some of them, chitinous and insectoid. The only way I can think to describe them is as resembling a grotesque, malformed spider’s leg. They seemed to burst out through their flesh, wiggling free from several places. On some, it was from their backs, on others from their sides or necks or top of their heads.
Tears streamed down my cheeks as I watched in disbelief at the fate of my co-workers. I was helpless, the machine wasn’t responding to me, and even if it was, it would be too late to stop whatever was happening to them. I could hardly recognise those things in the chamber, they were so far removed from the people they once were.
Some of them had taken on a more hunched stance, their arms elongating and thickening, their neck fusing into their shoulders like some kind of abominable mound of flesh. Their legs had shrivelled into their torso, leaving them wholly supported by the chitinous appendages that had sprouted across their body. Their face stretched and split into a macabre forced grin as they screamed out in agony.
Others seemed to have elongated, their bones snapping into place as they stretched their torso and necks into a horrible vine of flesh and plated limbs. Their jaws descended until they eventually split, the skin and bone falling away to reveal a gaping void like some kind of unearthly snake. Several more malformed limbs began sprouting from the elongated body. Some were chitinous malformations like the others, whereas some were made of pale flesh, looking like a grotesque cancerous tail.
Their eyes all remained though, I could see them clearly. Once windows to their souls, now they lay glazed over with a dark emptiness, pulsing with a faint, otherworldly glow. Their agonised yells echoed throughout the testing and observation chambers, crawling under my skin as I stared in horror.
Then everything stopped again. Silence filled the room as the flurry of movement abruptly ended, leaving me bathed in the red glow of the flatlining monitors and the dim radiance of the emergency lighting. I let out a strangled whimper as I stared through the plate glass at the abominations standing listlessly in front of me. What the hell had happened? How had this gone so wrong?
Movement from the testing chamber started up again as the whimper left my lips. As though only just registering my presence, each of the abominations turned in unison to face me and I screamed.
Their faces! There was nothing left of them, nothing human anyway. The glowing eyes bore into me through the glass, studying me for a second. The way they all looked at me, the way they moved their heads, it was too uniform, too perfectly synchronised.
Throwing their heads back, they screamed at the top of their lungs and the glass separating our two rooms shuddered. The sound was something that I can’t begin to describe, it wasn’t a sound that anything on this earth could make.
Snapping their attention back to me, my scalp tightened as the one closest to the glass stared directly into my eyes. With uneasy movements, as though unsure of how to work its grotesque appendages, it raised a heavy arm and slammed it against the solid pane. The glass shook violently with the impact, obviously not designed to deal with that kind of strenuous force, but thankfully it held fast.
What was left of the thing’s face seemed to contort into what I can only assume was a smile as it backed away and two of the other abominations behind it began charging forward. They slammed themselves violently against the glass of the chamber, screaming that horrid screech all the while. Cracks started forming as they backed away, readying themselves for another attempt. The entire time their eyes were locked on mine, staring as they charged.
I stood, rooted to the spot, staring at those pulsating eyes as the creatures slammed into the glass again. More cracks shot across the pane like a spiderweb, distorting the already horrific beings even further. As they backed up for one final charge, my senses came back to me. That glass wouldn’t hold, I needed to run!
Turning on my heel, I scrambled for the door to the main corridor, almost tripping over my own feet. Fumbling with the handle, the latch clicked and I swung it open, throwing myself through it before slamming it closed behind me. Not even a second had passed when I heard the shattering crash from behind me and the unnatural, guttural screeches of those things.
Pushing off again, I charged as fast as I could along the corridor, trying to put as much distance between myself and those god-forsaken abominations as possible. Screaming at the top of my lungs as I ran, I yelled to anyone who could hear me, anyone who would listen.
It looked like the majority of the staff had evacuated when the power went out but there were still a few stragglers, nervous-looking people in lab coats wandering from room to room, their precious research papers and laptops stuffed frantically under their arms. They poked their heads around the doors, obviously curious as to the commotion that I was creating as I fled.
I screamed at them to run, my voice cracking with utter panic when from behind me came another almighty crash and the splintering of wood which made my blood run cold. They were coming! The noise was deafening, funnelling down the corridor and blocking out my yells. Unnatural screeches, the tapping of chitin on tiles and the thud of heavy fleshy limbs scaping along as they gave pursuit.
I didn’t stop to look back, I knew what I would see. I screamed again for anyone still in the building to leave, to drop what they were doing and run, hoping that they would listen as I charged further along the corridor away from those god-awful things.
The roaring screeches followed me as I fled, seeming to gain on me and all I could imagine was a chitinous limb reaching out and yanking me back into the grip of those horrific monstrosities. As I rounded a corner, another sound joined the mess of horrific noises. That of terrified human screams and a nauseating, wet tearing noise. As bad as it was, and I felt disgusted for thinking it, I’d hoped that my poor co-workers who hadn’t managed to escape may have slowed those abominations down.
I didn’t stop, not even for a second. My footsteps echoed in the darkness as I ran, passing door after door, frantically charging towards the exit. I mustered every ounce of strength I had, pushing my trembling legs as hard as I could through the dimly lit corridors. The flickering emergency lights cast eerie shadows along the walls as I darted by, dancing in my peripheral vision like the monstrous limbs of those… things.
With each step, my heart pounded in my chest, echoing like a drumbeat of impending doom. From behind me, the relentless cacophony of the abominations intensified again and the gentle sting of tears welled up in my eyes as their thundering roars drew closer. They were done with my colleagues.
Glancing over my shoulder, I baulked at what I saw. They were at the end of the corridor, eyes fixed on me and closing the distance fast. Their grotesque forms seemed to warp as they charged, their limbs stretching and elongating in ways that defied nature.
The very air around them seemed to crackle with an unholy energy, intensifying their malicious appearance. They moved with an unnatural swiftness, their chitinous limbs dragging them along the cold metal of the lab walls and ceiling. Snapping my attention forward again, I swear that I almost felt their gnarled fingers grazing the back of my neck.
My breath came in ragged gasps as I frantically tried to navigate the labyrinthine corridors of the lab, the sounds of my own footsteps drowned out by the screeching creatures behind me. Every turn I took seemed to lead me into the same dimly lit stretch of corridor. It was as though the very architecture of the place seemed to shift and morph, defying logic and guiding me into a never-ending loop.
It had to be the influence of the machine, now that the testing chamber was breached nothing was preventing it from affecting the surrounding area. I was pretty sure I didn’t have the brainwave that we were experimenting with, but as the machine was unresponsive, it was probably putting out enough energy to stimulate normal brain waves too. It had to be affecting me somehow. Maybe it had something to do with those creatures.
I blinked frantically as I stared at the walls. They oozed with a viscous, gelatinous substance, as though they were bleeding. The thick silvery liquid was flowing down in heavy globs before pooling onto the floor. I needed to get out of here. We’d never tested the machine at these levels before, who was to say what it would do? The last thing I wanted was to escape the clutches of these creatures only to have my brain turned into mush.
As I sprinted, I struggled to determine what was real and what was a trick of my slowly decaying mind. Each corner I turned was a gamble as I charged onwards, all the while the horrors were screaming behind me, getting closer and closer. The tapping of their heavy chitinous limbs echoed along the empty corridor.
My legs grew heavy, and time lost all meaning as I continued my frenzied escape. I felt like I’d been running for hours, the stretches of bleeding corridors all melding into one as the boundaries between reality and my fracturing mind blurred. All I could do was run, run and hope against hope that I could find my way out before succumbing to madness or worse, those things.
Turning around yet another corner, a flicker of light from up ahead sent a wave of joy coursing through me. I knew fully well that this could just be a trick of the mind, that the machine’s growing influence could be making me hallucinate, but it was all I had right now.
I charged through the corridor, the screams of the abominations that were once my colleagues echoing ever closer. The light from the reinforced glass windows set into the thick metal of the exit door washed over me, it’s warm glow dancing across my skin as I approached.
Fumbling my keycard against the receiver, the heavy metal locks disengaged and I burst through the lab’s exit into glorious sunlight outside. My body trembled with exhaustion as I slammed the door shut behind me, leaning my weight against it to hold it shut. No sooner had it closed and the whirring of the locking mechanism ceased, I could hear the clawing of the abominations on the other side, attempting to force their way out of that prison and out into the real world. Their glowing eyes stared at me through the thick glass as they clawed and scratched at it in a frenzy.
The door held firm against their assault, the solid metal unwavering. Breathless, I fell to the ground, as the weight of my exertion finally caught up with me. I lay there, staring into the canopy of the trees above me as I gulped breath after breath of fresh air. Thank god, I was safe, or at least I hoped so.
The serene silence of the woodland was shattered by the heavy thudding of the metal bulkhead as the creatures threw themselves against it, attempting to breach it. They were trying to get out, trying to get to me. I could hear them scraping against the metal, they knew I was just on the other side. My jaw tensed and I braced myself again as I imagined the doors of the bulkhead exploding outward and those things slithering through.
Then the thudding ceased. Silence returned to the woodland, falling over me, unnatural and hostile. For a second allowed myself to hope, foolishly, that that was the end of it, that the creatures had given up. Then the colour drained from my face as I heard it. I keep trying to tell myself that it was just the machine influencing my mind, but no matter how hard I try, I can’t quite convince myself.
From the other side of the bulkhead came the sounds of several voices, all speaking in unison, echoing through the cold metal. They spoke to me, called out to me. The things they said, the things they knew. I really wish I could forget! There’s no way I can bring myself to repeat them, but I was certain of one thing. There’s no way those things can be allowed to escape.
I don’t know what all of this means. I still can’t fully comprehend what happened, what did that to my colleagues. Maybe we did manage to tap into some kind of connection with another consciousness. Maybe by creating a connection we unwittingly created a doorway of sorts, and something else hijacked it. All I know for sure is that there’s something out there and it knows about us, it wants us, and we let it through.
As far as I know, Dr Porter and the rest of them are all still trapped down there, and that machine is still running. I let our investors know that the experiment was a failure, but they’ll just cover it up or bury it, there’s too much money involved in all of this for them to listen to reason. If they refuse to listen then I need to tell the world what we found. We can’t risk letting anything else through.
I don’t know how long those things can survive, they’re not human anymore, hell they’re not anything that could be considered natural anymore. All I can do now is hope no one finds that god-forsaken lab again, that it’s just left to rot and that those… things… never see the light of day.